


it should have been me

by joshwrites



Series: the witchcraft in your lips has me spellbound [6]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Car Accidents, Deceased Child, F/F, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Heartache, I'm Sorry, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Self-Blame, Self-Hatred, Supportive Vanessa Woodfield, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 04:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13966911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshwrites/pseuds/joshwrites
Summary: Vanessa moves her hand just a little closer to Charity’s, but before she can take a risk, Charity speaks, her voice so soft that Vanessa almost doesn’t hear it.'What’s the point?' she asks the stars. She turns to face Vanessa and repeats the question. 'What’s the fuckingpoint?'





	it should have been me

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry about this I really am.

Vanessa never thought she'd see a Dingle looking so vulnerable.  
  
They’re sat on the roof of The Woolpack, the thick blanket covering their legs doing nothing to shelter them from the cold as the wind bustled around them. This had become their favourite spot. A place to just be alone, together. No interruptions. They were perfectly content with just sitting together in silence or sometimes they would air out the thoughts that they just couldn’t contain inside themselves any longer. Their voices carrying away in the wind, a sense of relief and tension leaving their body.  
  
  
  
They were sat under the stars, her heart beating a staccato rhythm in her chest. She could Charity in her peripheral sat beside her, knees drawn up to her chest and staring at the sky like it can answer all of her questions. Charity’s hand is only inches away from Vanessa’s, and she wants — she  **wants.  
**  
  
  
Vanessa moves her hand just a little closer to Charity’s, but before she can take a risk, Charity speaks, her voice so soft that Vanessa almost doesn’t hear it. 'What’s the point?' she asks the stars. She turns to face Vanessa and repeats the question. 'What’s the fucking  _point?_ '  
  
  
  
Vanessa is silent a moment then swallows, the small sound almost too loud in the darkness that surrounds them. 'Of what?'  
  
  
  
'All of this.' Charity waves a hand vaguely at the sky so far away and the village so far below them. 'Us humans, we… we can’t do anything right. We just break hearts and lose everything we care about.’ Her voice choked off at the end, her gaze falling back to her blanket-covered lap.  
  
  
  
She doesn’t have to say Moses. They both know the other is thinking it. Vanessa closes her eyes, inhales the cool Yorkshire air and opens them to glance at Charity out of the corner of her eye.  
  
  
  
Charity’s mind flashes back to the fateful day just six months earlier.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It was Moses’ second week in nursery, his whole body practically vibrating as he waited for his mother by the door. ‘C’mon, Mummy!’ He squealed, growing inpatient whilst she scrambled around to find her other shoe.  
  
  
  
‘Coming!’ She yelled back, letting out an exasperated sigh as she righted herself before joining him at the door. She couldn’t help the smile that lifted up the corners of her lips at the excited look on his face as he clutched the bookbag in his small hands.  
  
  
  
The nursery wasn’t too far and in reality, they probably could have walked it but Charity was almost always late in getting ready so it was easier to just drive in. Moses was sat beside her, strapped into the passenger seat and humming along with the radio whilst kicking his legs back and forth.   
  
  
  
She brought her hand up to stifle the yawn that was crawling up her throat as she pulled to a stop at the red lights. ‘So, you looking forward to today then you little monkey?’ Charity turned her head to look at Charity, reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately.   
  
  
  
‘Yeah,’ Moses responded with enthusiasm, bringing his hands together in an excited clap.  
  
  
  
Charity laughed fondly, he really was too cute for words sometimes.  
  
  
  
She watched the light change from red to amber and slowly pulled forward, not having time to see the white van still speeding along to try and chase the lights, she just saw a flash of white and then–   
  
  
  
**BANG.**  
  
  
  
The whole car rocked and she gasped, her hand falling forward to bang viciously against the steering wheel, the airbag releasing a second too late. The last thing she heard before completely blacking out was the strangled cry of her youngest son next to her.  
  
  
  
Charity didn’t know how long had passed, whether it been a couple minutes, half an hour or what–– all she knew was that she hurt. She hurt all over and that the silence inside the car was almost deafening.   
  
  
  
She tried her move but there was a sharp piece of metal digging right into her left leg that caused her to cry out if she moved it just slightly to the left. She could feel the blood trickling down the side of her face and one eye was almost swollen shut. She breathed in a deep ragged breath before looking around her.   
  
  
  
The car was smashed up, that much was obvious. It looked like they had skidded around for a couple hundred meters too. She tried to straighten up in her seat little, pained whimpers leaving her lips at just the small movement before she looked to her left. The side the white van had hit them.   
  
  
  
A broken cry left her lips at the first sight of her precious boy, his head lolled to the side and a huge gash covering his temple where blood looked to be profusely pouring out from, caking his hair and the side of his face in bright red blood. His left arm looked twisted in an unnatural angle and she couldn’t even see his legs as they were trapped under twisted pieces of metal.   
  
  
  
‘Baby?’ She tried calling out to him but her voice only came out as a strangled whisper. She reached her arm out to pat his soft fine hair. ‘Moz? Can– Can you hear me, love?’  
  
  
  
Moses was too still, too silent but she could see that his chest was still moving slightly. That had to be a good thing right? Right? She gently titled his head back so it was resting against the back of the seat instead of lolled to the side before urgently digging into the front pocket of her jeans for her phone to call an ambulance.   
  
  
  
She looked at the screen only to find it smashed with the screen on black, she tried holding in the power button with no luck. ‘No, no, no!’ She screamed tossing her phone at the already damaged windshield before pounding her fists against the steering wheel, hot tears sliding down her cheeks.  
  
  
  
Charity’s head turned in a flash back to Moses when she heard him emit a small whimper. ‘Hey, hey. It’s alright sweetheart, I’m here.’ Her voice was thick with emotion as she reached out to him, clutching his small hand in his own. It felt cold and clammy beneath her own, his eyes slowly lulling open to meet her own.   
  
  
  
‘M’my, it ‘urts.’ Moses small scared voice filled the small space of the car and she tried to shuffle closer to him but the pain in her leg was preventing her from doing so.   
  
  
  
‘I know, baby. I know. Just hold tight for me okay? Help will be here soon. Can you do that?’ Charity’s voice was soft, reaching over with her other hand to brush the blood-matted hair from out of his glazed eyes.   
  
  
  
‘M’kay.’ He responded. His voice nothing more than a whisper as his eyes began to fall shut again.  
  
  
  
Charity shook her head frantically, wincing at the pain it brought to her already pounding head. ‘No, no. I need you to stay awake for me, okay?’ Charity whimpered, her hand clenching the small hand in hers for just a moment until Moses’ unfocused eyes found hers again.  
  
  
  
‘Can you do that for me, darling?’ Charity could barely see in front of her due to the build-up of hot tears that continually spilt over her eyelids.   
  
  
  
She brought her other hand up to wipe the tears away and clearing her vision once more before trying to peak out the distorted windshield. She could hear a lot of bustle from outside and just hoped that someone had called an ambulance for them. She needed them to save her boy. She didn’t even care what happened to her, she just needed them to save her boy.  
  
  
  
She kept checking back on Moses, making sure he was keeping his eyes open and when it looked like he was about to drop off again jostling him to remind him he couldn’t fall back to sleep, just yet.  
  
  
  
The time had stretched a further ten to fifteen minutes when she could feel the hand in hers losen further, with panic building in her chest she looked back to Moses. She took in his deathly pale skin, the darkening colour of his lips and the slowly-loosening grip and just knew. She was losing him. In this very moment, she was watching him die. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms tightly around him, to cuddle him up against her chest and press kisses to the top of his head but she can’t. She can’t move and he can’t move. All she could do was hold on to his hand tightly with both of her own.  
  
  
  
A broken sob left her cracked lips as she brought the cool hand up to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. ‘I’m sorry Moses, I’m so so sorry.’ She trailed off as deep heavy sobs took over her body, his hand still pressed against his lips as she said goodbye to her son. ‘I love you so much, I’m so so sorry.’  
  
  
  
She cried and she cried and she cried.  
  
  
  
She cried until she felt she could cry no more and then finally,  _finally,_ she felt the roof of the car being lifted off, sunshine suddenly bearing down on her and a fireman peaking his head inside to ask for more information and to talk her through how they were going to get her out.  
  
  
  
But she didn’t hear anything. She felt numb, completely numb. Her hand was still clutching Moses’ now deathly still one.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Everyone blamed her.  
  
  
  
Of course, they did.  
  
  
  
If there was ever anybody to blame for anything, it would be Charity.   
  
  
  
Charity’s fault.  
  
  
  
Ross was furious, screamed at her, blamed her, wished that she was the one that died instead of Moses.  
  
  
  
And in a lot of ways, she agreed with him.  
  
  
  
Noah didn’t speak to her for a full week. She didn’t know whether he was just keeping away because he was too afraid he might upset her or whether he was just silently seething with rage because he blamed her too.   
  
  
  
He probably did.  
  
  
  
The whole village did.  
  
  
  
They asked why didn’t they just walk instead of drive, why didn’t she look more thoroughly when the lights changed. Why did she do this and why did she do that?  
  
  
  
Like they were even there when it happened, like they even had the right to fucking judge her.  
  
  
  
She didn’t leave The Woolpack for weeks, hell she didn’t even leave her room for wakes. She just lay in her bed and clutched Moses’ monkey toy tight to her chest. It still smelt of him. She could still see the image of his eyes closing for the last time in her mind. The way his mouth curled around the word ‘Mummy’ before he slipped away from her forever.   
  
  
  
Chas tried to coax her out of her depression and grief but she couldn’t be budged. She asked herself over and over again why couldn’t it be her and not him. She knew what people said about her, how she’d always been a bad mother, how she was incapable of loving anyone other than herself. But it wasn’t true. Because she loved Moses with all her heart and now he was gone.   
  
  
  
There was only every one person she remembers not putting all the blame on her. Vanessa.  
  
  
  
She had become her rock. Somehow they had wormed their way into each other’s lives and not left. Vanessa had been there for her since the first day, she had sat by her bedside and held her while she cried, whispered encouragements and ‘not your fault’s’ into her hair while she clutched desperately onto her top and buried her tear-stained face into the crook of her neck.  
  
  
  
They had become familiar with her.  
  
  
  
She would say that Vanessa became her first and only real friend. She didn’t know what she did to get her because she sure as hell didn’t deserve her but she wasn’t letting go anytime soon.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
Vanessa looked at Charity sat beside her on the roof with sad eyes. Charity looks… lost. So lost, and alone, and Vanessa wants to kiss her, wants it more than anything she’s ever wanted it before. Charity usually looks like she can hold the world on her shoulders, and somehow this makes her vulnerability look so much more painful to Vanessa's eyes. She wants to hold her, to keep her safe, to make sure she never looks this lost and alone ever again. Never feels this pain and grief ever again.  
  
  
  
Charity is looking down into her lap, her soft blonde hair falling in waves around her face, and Vanessa aches inside.  
  
  
  
But she doesn’t take what she wants — she knows it’s too soon for both of them. So she takes Charity’s hand, and they sit and hold hands and watch the stars.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
It’s another night and they’re stargazing again and Vanessa wonders  _is this a date?_  before immediately dismissing the thought out of hand. It’s what she wants — desperately — but thinking of it like that and then realising the cold, hard truth that neither of them can move on yet would be too painful. So she sits under the stars again and doesn’t say a word.  
  
  
  
The night is cold, colder than before, and Vanessa is wearing Charity’s leather jacket, the leather soft and warm against her skin. Charity doesn’t look cold, in only a red plaid button-up shirt and thin jacket hugging her shoulders.  
  
  
  
She’d always thought she’d have to stay away from bad boys — they’re nothing but trouble —Rhona said. But Charity, the quick-witted barmaid, is far more dangerous to Vanessa’s heart than any boy she’d ever been with.  
  
  
  
Well, there was Kirin, she supposes, but that was — that was over now.  
  
  
  
''Ness?' says Charity, and Vanessa turns to her.  
  
  
  
‘Yeah?’  
  
  
  
'I’m sorry.'  
  
  
  
And before Vanessa can ask what the hell Charity has got to be sorry for she’s leaning in and closing the distance between them, pressing her dry and wind-chapped lips against her own soft ones.  
  
  
  
Vanessa feels herself freeze at the sudden contact, warmth flooding beneath her skin. Charity starts to pull away, and Vanessa can feel the guilt and shame that Charity is suddenly feeling, so she pulls Charity closer, hands moving up to frame her face as she kisses her back, almost desperately.  
  
  
  
She realises, absent-mindedly that this is her first kiss with another woman. She’s thought about it before, thought about kissing Charity before, but this is beyond anything her imagination could conjure up. Charity is warm and solid against her, and she tastes like whiskey and citrus, and Vanessa’s skin feels like a million nerve endings, all on fire where Charity is touching her. Charity’s hand is gentle where it cups the back of her head, keeping her face in place and Vanessa thinks  _is this what love is like?  
_  
  
  
She thinks so.   
  
  
  
She hopes so.  
  
  
  
Their first kiss is under the starlight and it's with the first woman that Vanessa's ever loved.  
  
  
  
It’s more than Vanessa has ever dared to hope for.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://aarondingle.co.vu) | [Twitter](http://twitter.com/daddydingIe)


End file.
